Stay
by sittingroundthesamovar
Summary: It's almost impossible to reason with a five-year-old. Haytham learns this the hard way.


**Another kink meme fill. This is set in an AU where Connor lives with his father after Ziio's death.**

**And yes I am very well aware that I messed up the timelines, especially where the destruction of the first Colonial Brotherhood is concerned... please just roll with it?**

Ratonhnhaké:ton sobbed as he clung to Haytham's leg. He'd not seen the little boy cry so much since Ziio's death, since William had awkwardly dragged the little boy toward him after a long discussion with the village elders.

"Raton," Haytham said, trying to pry the child off his knee. "Raton, I have to go."

Ratonhnhaké:ton simply cried harder, begging in Kanien'kehá:ka. Haytham sighed.

"Daddy can't speak Mohawk," he said, ruffling his son's hair in a way he hoped was reassuring. "Please speak English."

Ratonhnhaké:ton sniffed. His grip didn't lessen, though the boy did squint up, past Haytham's hip, to meet his father's worried gaze.

"Stay," he begged. "Please do not go! I will be good!"

"I'll only be gone a few days," Haytham said. "Then I'll be right back here again, and we can play hunters."

Ratonhnhaké:ton let out another wail, and Haytham could feel fresh tears soaking into his thigh. How could the boy be so clingy? He was almost six, for God's sake! He was fine when Haytham went out without him for a few hours.

"I will give you more hugs," Ratonhnhaké:ton promised. "I will put my toys away when I am finished right away! I will not complain about these silly clothes, please, Daddy!"

"Look, I don't know why you're being so clingy all of a sudden. I'm not going to Boston to punish you, I'm going because I have to. Let me go, child."

"Mother left!" Ratonhnhaké:ton choked. "Now you are too!"

"That isn't what's happening," Haytham sighed. "I'm going with Charles and the others for a few days to take care of important business. I can't not go, and it's not the sort of business a young lad like yourself ought to be involved in. Please just stay here until I get back and behave for Mrs Langley."

"She is not you," Ratonhnhaké:ton mumbled, sullenly, breath still hitching. "Please stay."

"I can't. It's just a few days, you'll be fine. Please let go of my leg."

"No!" Ratonhnhaké:ton cried, clutching even tighter than before. "You will leave!"

"I just want to give you a hug goodbye," Haytham said, before realising what an idiotic thing to say that was. Ratonhnhaké:ton's wail rose to a full-out scream, and the boy's fingers felt as though they were actually piercing his skin. Dear God that hurt.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Ratonhnhaké:ton shrieked, still sobbing. "No goodbye!"

"I have to leave!" Haytham found himself shouting, despite his best efforts. "Let go!"

"No!"

Haytham looked around wildly for some kind of help- a crowbar or Mrs Langley herself, the housekeeper was always very good with the boy. Sadly, nothing was readily available. He sighed. There was only one thing he could really do.

"All right!" he bellowed. "All right!"

Ratonhnhaké:ton choked and shuddered, and slowly quietened until he was crying at a more normal volume.

"You can come with me to Boston," Haytham ceded, tiredly. "But you're to behave perfectly, all right? No tantrums like just now. Be polite, even to Charles-" the boy let out a groan at that "- and you're to do exactly as I say. Understood?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton sniffled and wiped his eyes on Haytham's cloak before nodding.

"Yes, daddy."

"Good. Now, go and wash your face, and I'll tell Mrs Langley we're both going."

Ratonhnhaké:ton smiled, and scampered away. Haytham wondered if this was bad parenting. He sighed, and went to find the housekeeper.

* * *

"You brought your son along?" Charles radiated distaste and annoyance.

"Raton wouldn't let me leave until I promised to take him to Boston with me. He's not coming anywhere near Davenport, I assure you."

"Where is Davenport?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked, tugging at his father's cloak.

"Never you mind," Haytham said, then turned back to Charles. "He's staying here in the inn until we return, and I'll take him round the markets the next afternoon. It'll be fine."

"Who's going to watch over him while we're away?" Charles snapped.

"One of the lower-ranking lackeys. I'm sure there's somebody we can spare- someone with a twisted ankle or a broken wrist, perhaps?"

"I'll ask around. I'm not happy about this, Haytham. Not only did you arrive nearly two hours late, you've endangered the entire plan. It isn't fitting conduct for the Grand Master."

'Sod off,' Haytham thought. 'You're never happy.'

"I'm sorry," Haytham said. "It won't happen again."

Ratonhnhaké:ton was not happy at being left out of 'daddy's secret meeting', as he called it, but he was cheered up immensely by a few wholesome-seeming lesser members of the Order, who offered to look after him for a few hours. By which they apparently meant 'spoil the little lad rotten'.

"He's got a tiny tricorn! How sweet!"

"What's your name, young sir?"

"How would you like some chocolate to drink?"

"Er… could you repeat your name for me, please?"

Satisfied that his son would be distracted from his absence for a few hours, Haytham braced himself for the full force of Charles' most angry glare. The man had never liked Ziio, and he shared the same distaste for the boy as the boy had for Charles.

* * *

Ratonhnhaké:ton, for the second time that day, clung to his father's leg.

"You cannot go! You promised I could come with you!"

"To Boston," Haytham snapped. "Not to Davenport."

"But-"

"But nothing. I shouldn't've even brought you here, Raton. I'll help you comb your hair and read you a story, like always. And then I'll give you a hug and a kiss goodnight, and then I'm going to leave, and one of the lovely ladies from earlier will watch over you. I'll be back before dawn, and it'll be like I wasn't gone at all."

"But-"

"I will come back, Raton," Haytham said again, more softly this time. "I will _always _come back. Always and forever."

Ratonhnhaké:ton still didn't look happy, but he nodded anyway, and let go of his father's leg.

* * *

Haytham sighed heavily as they re-entered the Green Dragon at the breaking of dawn. It was a shame so many had to die, but they did not listen to reason. Seeing Achilles Davenport kneel so lifelessly over the bodies of his wife and child had been heartbreaking, but there had been no other way. The Brotherhood had been to dangerous. They would not be reasoned with. They had to die.

The child had been so different from Ratonhnhaké:ton, perhaps ten years older, skin jet black and hair wiry. Connor Davenport unsettled him, made him think about his own little boy, tucked up in bed with the Order's injured to take care of him.

"Time to drink to our victory, boys," Hickey grinned.

"I need to sleep, I'm afraid," Haytham held up a hand placatingly. "But I hope you'll all celebrate in my stead."

"Are you all right?" Pitcairn asked.

"Just tired," Haytham replied, with an exhausted smile. The sun was already blossoming across the horizon, and he needed to keep his promise, as much as he wanted a few drops of spirits to dull the memory of the violence he had just partaken in.

He gave his brothers a tired wave, and crept up the stairs as quietly as he could. It would not do to wake the poor lad.

Haytham finally reached the door of his room, and took off his boots and hat and cloak as silently as possible, disarming himself with only a few quiet thumps and a few quiet clinks. The grey light filtered through the shutters, and Haytham removed his dirty jacket and his stockings before climbing into the bed, and untying his hair.

"Daddy," Ratonhnhaké:ton murmured, still half-asleep.

Haytham half-wished he'd asked for another bed to be brought in, but knowing the boy, he would have slipped into Haytham's bed the first chance he got, anyway. In any case, it was too late now, and to have those tiny arms wrap around his shoulders, and to curl himself around the boy protectively… it made him feel human, as though he wasn't doing too badly at this 'fatherhood' thing, reminded him of the way he had crawled into his parent's bed when he had been so very very small and so very very scared all those decades ago.

"It's just before dawn," Haytham replied, stroking his son's hair comfortingly. "Always and forever, lad. Always and forever."

Ratonhnhaké:ton made a relieved noise, and burrowed under the blankets, giving his daddy the best approximation of a cuddle a five-year-old could do at the crack of dawn.

"We'll go to the market in the afternoon," Haytham let his eyes drift closed, feeling his mind slowly detach from the realm of wakefulness. "And you can play with Uncle Johnson and Uncle Hickey. And… Charles might let you help groom his dogs, if you're especially nice…"


End file.
